The Nightclub
by Little Kouhai
Summary: Nagisa takes everyone out to a nightclub, and it turns out to be a gay nightclub. (This is entirely crack because I didn't want to take either anime seriously and neither did my friend. Also this is really stupid so maybe don't waste time on it.)


**Author's Note: So Nee-san was coming up with _what-if_s. _What if Nagisa took everyone out to a nightclub, and it turned out to be a gay nightclub?_ went to _What if Momo found one of the people on the dance floor hot?_ went to _wHAT IF THAT PERSON WAS ALOIS?_**

**I was internally screaming through this entire thing and I wish I could say that I regret bringing this into existence.**

* * *

><p>When Nagisa had called and enthusiastically invited Momo to come along with him to a club, he didn't actually consider the possibility that it was a gay club. I mean, the entire Iwatobi swim club was some form of gay or another, whether exclusively gay, or pansexual or bisexual, along with Rin and Nitori, who were also invited. Rather, no one was invited, necessarily, since Nagisa was probably going to drag them along anyway.<p>

Maybe he should have know. Then again, the energetic blond's mind worked in a way that was almost never predictable, so maybe not.

Either way, he found him sitting at a vacant table watching the countless activities going on. Rin was near the back trying to make Nitori stop bringing over unwanted attention with his nonstop slurring of things like, "Rin-senpai! Kou-san said you could pole dance! I wanna see!"; Nagisa's face was covered in a drunken flush and he had Rei cornered and was touching him in ways that were a bit more than just a little bit suggestive; and Makoto was talking to a couple of guys at the front with Haru sitting close by him.

And Momo was bored with it all.

Until a boy, maybe around fourteen or fifteen, stepped onto the dance floor, catching the completely, thoroughly, entirely straight boy's attention and making him question his flaming heterosexuality for a split second. The style of his platinum blond hair and his babyish face gave him a more feminine appearance, which Momo used in a desperate attempt to restore his quickly-draining straightness, but there wasn't any possible way for him to actually kid himself into believing the boy was in fact a girl instead.

Somehow, Momotarou Mikoshiba, who was Japan's Legendary Sea Otter and could deal with anything without any issues, and the straightest thing to ever walk the earth on top of that, found himself staring blankly at the blond boy's ass without anything going through his head aside from, 'Holy hell, I'd hit that.' For the brief moment he was able to pull his attention away from the stranger, the thought crossed his mind that, well, perhaps his pants hadn't been so tight just a few minutes ago.

Apparently, the staring caught the boy's eye, because he stopped and swayed his hips exaggeratedly as he walked over to where Momo was sitting. He took a seat on the redhead's lap, hands going to the older boy's hips and a mischievous playing on his lips.

"First time here?" he asked in a feminine voice laced with an English accent. There was the light scent of red wine on his breath. "I've never seen you around here before."

"N-no, m-my friend—well, Senpai's friend—uh—" Momo stuttered, trying to coherently explain what a perfectly heterosexual young man like himself was doing at a gay club. He wasn't even like this when talking to cute girls, so why had he been reduced to such a state now?

"A bit shy, are we?" The stranger's grin widened and he trailed down the redhead's chest, his stomach, and then cupped his crotch. "Don't worry, I've had a lot of firsts, so no one's too inexperienced for me."

Momo tensed up and drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected contact. Guys weren't his thing, it was simple as that. He was fine with guys who swung that way—Nitori-senpai was in love with Rin, and he assumed Sousuke to be Rin's ex or something like that—but he just wasn't one of those guys. However, his brain seemed to believe otherwise.

"Would you like to dance, love?" The childish voice was smooth as velvet somehow, and touched on being borderline...sexy? No, that wasn't right—thinking something like that would be gay. He was not gay.

"Ah—I can't dance, I never l-learned how to," Momo stuttered, trying to get the kid to just leave him alone already. It was a lie, though, since he had heard that knowing how to dance could help with sports, so he had decided to try it. He was, in fact, fairly good at it.

"Oh, that's all right. Just follow my lead and you'll do fine."

It seemed, as the blond took Momo's hand and guided him to the crowded dance floor, there was no possible way to get out of this. To add to the horrible discomfort of being around so many people in such an undesirable scenario, the stranger was standing really fucking close.

Wait just a moment—there was a reason he was so close. Staring up at him with beautiful ice-blue eyes clouded with lust, dainty hands squeezing the redhead's hips, dancing terribly close, standing on his toes to reach Momo's height as he practically ground against the flaming heterosexual. He was dirty dancing, as it was now clear, and to make it even worse, he was actually getting hard from it.

And Jesus motherfucking Christ, they were attracting attention from others. He overheard murmuring about him, everyone saying he was attractive and that perhaps they would try him out next if he decided to come again. It was incredibly embarrassing, and prominent crimson flush spread across his cheeks. It didn't help that he had also caught the attention of the other six who came along, though thankfully, at least his senpai was more focused on something other than Momo being completely humiliated by this gorgeous—straight boys could admire other guys using that word and still be straight, right?—stranger.

"What's the matter, cutie? Got stage fright?"

Dear God, that tone of voice was going straight to Momo's dick... Voices didn't necessarily have genders, so it wasn't like it was gay or anything.

"My...friends, they're...they're watching us..."

"It doesn't matter who's watching."

The stranger lifted his leg up to put it over Momo's hip, and the redhead grabbed his thigh to keep him from falling. He almost let go, but at the same time, he didn't want to do something like that for no reason.

And before his brain could register anything else at all, the stranger was kissing him, slowly, passionately, and there wasn't anything after that he could remember.

Of course, he had some idea of what happened, but it was fine—after all, everyone went through the "experimenting college kid" stage. His just came four years early.

All he remembered was the boy's name:

Alois Trancy

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: pLEASE DO NOT JUDGE ME<strong>


End file.
